Addiction
by tromana
Summary: It starts off painfully simply, it always does. Every single day, in fact. Jane/Lisbon. Written for Hoshinekoyasha
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This features abuse of over the counter medicines. Please take note of that before reading.**

**Spoilers for 2x03 Red Badge and 2x10 Throwing Fire.**

x tromana

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**Title:** Addiction  
**Author:** tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters: **Jane/Lisbon Team  
**Disclaimer:** Unless it's under the Christmas tree, then the answer is still no.  
**Summary:** It starts off painfully simply, it always does. Every single day, in fact. Jane/Lisbon  
**Spoilers:** 2x03 Red Badge, 2x10 Throwing Fire  
**Notes:** Written for hoshinekoyasha who asked for a fic based on Lisbon and drugs overdose/reliance.

**Addiction  
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**Part One**

It starts off painfully simply, it always does. Every single day, in fact. Just a slight pressure in the center of her forehead, enough to irritate her, but certainly not enough for her to go to extremes. Just take a couple of tablets, swallow it down, grimacing ever so slightly, with a sip of water. It won't be long until the active ingredient in the drug, some strange medicinal compound which she doesn't quite understand but appreciates a lot, is coursing through her blood supply, heading towards where it hurts. Soon enough, the pain will be stopped and she will be back to normal. Back to cool, calm, competent Teresa Lisbon. A simple headache is never going to be enough to stop her in her tracks.

It's hard for other people to notice when you start abusing painkillers. Keeping track of just how often someone slips an incongruous little pill between their lips is something that's easy to ignore. Easy to hide, too. Especially when that person is prone to headaches anyway. To be fair, it's also easy for you yourself to not notice it too, not until someone points it out to you. And that's exactly what's happening to Lisbon.

She blames it on the washout, at first. Getting rid of the Lorazepam from her system had all sorts of side-effects. Irritability, sleeplessness… headaches was just another in a line that she associates with those. Surely it was better for her to take two little pills, a couple of times a day and she'll feel much, much better. She's not abusing the medication, simply using it. It ensures she can carry on doing her job, stops her from snapping at Jane quite so much. Means she still has that resolve and clear head to do what she needs to do.

Her eyes look particularly heavy today, withdrawn. She's grateful for the miracle of medical science - at least she'll start feeling a bit brighter in a couple of hours or so. Just when she walks into the office, if she manages to get there on time. Which, naturally, she will, because she's Lisbon and she has an image to maintain. She's the boss, she can't be late. With a sigh, she pulls out her makeup case. There's a reason she's been wearing more of late - she wants to try and disguise the fact that she may be just a little run down from Jane, at the very least. It'll pass over time. Give her a month or so and she'll be as right as rain, whatever that means.

Van Pelt gives her a bright smile as she crawls out of her car at the CBI headquarters an hour later, feeling very sorry for herself. Maybe she'd mistaken a migraine for a headache? Not that it'd make any difference of course, she'd still come into work and throw everything into whatever case comes their way. What else can she do? It's not as if she can afford to stay off work sick and even if she could, she doesn't have anyone to look after her and goodness knows, misery loves company. The red head holds the elevator for her and as they travel up to the third floor.

"Hi Boss."

The younger woman is as bubbly and enthusiastic as ever. Her smile only falters slightly when Lisbon nods and murmurs her response.

"I was thinking…"

"I don't care," she snaps, only feeling slightly guilty when Van Pelt's face falls completely. "Tell me later, okay?"

"When you've had some caffeine?"

"Maybe."

Her office, the one place where she should be able to guarantee peace and solitude in the whole building, has never seemed more welcoming. Especially because it means she can get away from Van Pelt's inane chatter and calm down a little bit. Only problem is, it isn't quite as she left it last night and that irks her somewhat as this is meant to be her own private space. The main difference being, a coffee has been placed on her desk, waiting for her to arrive. Lisbon doesn't need any hints to know who's responsible for this: only one person would have the audacity to pick the lock purely to leave a hot drink in there. It's a sweet gesture, but frankly, she doesn't feel in the mood for coffee. Then again, the only thing she does feel in the mood for is her warm bed.

She's only just picked up the Stasiowraski file and her highlighter when Jane appears at her door. Lisbon places it down in front of her with a sigh, wishing that she could have just five minutes alone to be able to breathe and at the very least, make a start on her work. They never know when the phone is going to ring and pull them out to goodness knew where, after all. Whenever there is a brief moment of peace, she has to make the very most of it. And that always, always means catching up with paperwork. With Patrick Jane on your team, that always means you're going to be inundated by it. She focuses her tired eyes on him and he approaches, with apparent concern. He doesn't like seeing her missing that spark she had just a month ago.

That's why he's here. He has to step in, to intervene. She'll inadvertently kill herself at this rate.

"Lisbon," Jane whispers her name, sounding almost predatory. He has her trapped in her own office and for the first time, she actually feels terrified being in his presence. "Lisbon, I think you have a problem."

"I do not," she retorts angrily, furious that he could insinuate such a thing.

"You do," he persists and pulls out a tub of tablets, shaking them in front of her casually. "These. You're addicted to them."

"I'm not," she replies, quickly snatching them out of his hand. "I just take them when I have a headache."

"Every day?"

"Maybe I have a headache every day."

"Then you have a problem."

"Get out," she snaps the two words and he flinches at the callousness of her words. "Get out, get out, get out!"

Lisbon is seconds away from throwing something, so sensibly (for a change), he makes a hasty retreat. Back, into the relative safety of the bullpen. There's three more state agents in there, she can't, won't, hurt him in there. Not without major repercussions, anyway. Though, in saying that, they would probably see it as a mercy killing due to the fact that he can apparently be rather irritating. But still, he was theoretically safer in there, at any rate.

She slumped over her desk, her forehead coming into immediate contact with the cool surface of the wooden desk. It felt surprisingly refreshing, something that Lisbon felt like she needed right now. Anything, to try and dull the throbbing ache that had been manifesting throughout the day. Instinctively, she grabs the tub that Jane has left on her desk and unscrews the lid. She looks at the little white tablets as they lay in her hand for a second. She can't help it, she needs them today.

And she's not overdosing. She's not reliant on the damn things. It's something you can buy over the counter - it can't be dangerous.

Can it?

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Wow, I'm being super productive at the moment. I hope people don't mind the fact I'm practically spamming their inboxes. *shuffles feet*

Thanks to: Divinia Serit, Chiisana Minako, Jadestar1981, Iloveplotbunnies, Odakota Rose, cureless, Penelope Louise and yaba for reviewing part one.

x tromana

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**Part Two**

It's another day and another dead body.

Another headache too.

With a frown knitted across her brow, Lisbon kneels down to see the damage done to yet another poor soul. Single gunshot wound, dead center of the forehead. A professional's job, she muses. She bitterly ignores the throbbing pain across her temples - it's worse than yesterday's - as she hopes that the medication kicks in soon. It normally has done so by now and everyone is walking on eggshells because of it, not that she's particularly noticed. Sighing, she puts on some latex gloves and carefully plucks a poker chip out of the vic's hand. Gambling is a terrible addiction. That's probably the reason why he was murdered, too.

Though, knowing Jane, he'll probably come up with some crackpot theory linking to something entirely different. And annoyingly, he'll probably be right, too.

She sends Cho and Rigsby to go and talk to the dead man's boss. Jane was meant to go too, but typically, he insists upon shadowing Van Pelt and herself. Lisbon feels as though his eyes are boring into her as she rummages in various compartments in the car for a tub of painkillers that she knows she left in there last week. She tries not to look too delighted when her fingers come into contact with the cool plastic and tries not to give away the fact that she's taking these an hour or so earlier than she should. But it's okay, just so long as she doesn't take more than the recommended six a day - it'll be fine.

She _will_ be fine. She has to be.

And it's better that she does take them, really. Better that she can operate like something resembling a normal human being rather than dragging herself through the motions and doing a bad job because of something as mundane as a headache.

Jane is surprisingly well behaved as they speak to the relatives. He doesn't say anything out of turn, doesn't do anything embarrassing like fiddling with and consequently, breaking any family heirlooms or the like. Doesn't even get into a fight with any of the sorry individuals sitting opposite her. Does, however, bring up the gambling problem and stares at her pointedly every single time he refers to it as an 'addiction' though. Something which doesn't take long to exasperate Lisbon.

Because she absolutely does not have a problem. Not like the victim.

And not like her Dad, either.

She's seen the depths of addiction and obsession and likes to think that she can notice the warning signs. It's not as if she's neglecting her duties or lashing out at those she cares about the most, generally speaking. Yes, she's a little quieter and withdrawn at times, but that's mainly because her head hurts, even with the painkillers, and she doesn't want to exacerbate the condition. Who would?

The drive back to CBI headquarters is ominously silent. Lisbon just doesn't feel up to bickering with Jane, so takes to ignoring his questions and Van Pelt simply doesn't know what to say. It's a relief when they pull up; the idea of being trapped in that small metal box with one another for much longer is almost unbearable.

"Is Lisbon alright?"

Despite the fact that the brunette has already stomped off to her office and slammed the door shut, Van Pelt still only whispers to Jane. She hates the fact that she's essentially gossiping about the boss, but she cannot help but be concerned. Since moving over to Sacramento, she's seen the team as being her second family. If she suspects that something is wrong with any of them, then she's determined to try and help out.

"She's just got a headache," Jane assures her, with a pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, okay."

It wasn't a lie, he was just bending the truth.

And it wasn't as if he hadn't done it before. Frequently.

Still, as Jane settles onto his couch, sinking into the comfortable and familiar leather, he can't help but feel a little disconcerted. If the rest of the team has noticed, then things are getting serious. But he's floundering here; he's tried the direct approach and unsurprisingly, she had scoffed at the mere notion of her having a problem. And knowing Lisbon, she'd probably grow more and more suspicious if he tries anything more subtle. Hiding the pills was out of the question; she'd probably kill him if he did that and he's not sure whether or not that's literally or only figuratively.

As his eyes slowly drift shut, so do Lisbon's. She wakes up an hour later, horrified by the fact that she's been sleeping on the job. It surprises her that nobody has disturbed her sooner, but she's grateful. Either Cho and Rigsby haven't got back yet, or they have had the common courtesy to leave her be. Instinctively, her hands dive into the draw to her right. She cracks the lid open yet again and stares at the pills, slightly horrified.

Just how many has she taken today?

To be fair, she's lost count.

Regrettably, she puts them back in the tub, not wanting to overdose.

But then again, she can't actually remember the last day when she didn't actually take one tablet at all. Possibly, before the whole Carmen incident, certainly not after it. Intrigued, Lisbon looks at her desktop calendar and frowns. That was nearly nine months ago. That was even before… She shakes her head. She doesn't really want to think about Bosco; it's all too raw, even now. Still, how can she not remember having a headache-free day for three quarters of a _year_?

She glances tentatively at her closed door and finds herself walking towards it automatically. Lisbon ignores the glances from Van Pelt, who is studiously working as hard as ever, as she walks across to Jane. She looks down at him, serene and peaceful on the couch. Lisbon has known for a long while that this particular piece of furniture is his own personal nirvana but she doesn't feel particularly guilty about breaking into his comfort zone.

This time, she feels nervous though.

Sucking in a deep breath, she gently nudges him in the side and waits patiently for his eyes to snap open. When he greets her with a bright, almost knowing, smile, she wants to run and hide. Why the hell is she telling him, anyway? It's not as if it's any of his business, after all. Just because he might, _might_, be correct, it doesn't give him the automatic right to know exactly what she's thinking about the whole situation.

"I think you're right."

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I would just like to point out that Lisbon hasn't admitted to having a problem after a couple of weeks or so. In Part Two, she has been suffering from Daily Chronic Headache for nine months or so. By Part Three, this is now ten months. So it's something that's been on her mind for a while. Jane pointing it out just made her 'click' that having a headache daily isn't exactly normal.

Secondly, I'd like to apologise for the delay in writing this. There's two reasons for this: one, I really wanted to get _Entropy_ finished and now I have and two, this fic is more personal than most for me. Whilst that could make it easier, it does actually make it more difficult, in a way.

Now I've said that, I'd like to thank Divinia Serit, Odakota Rose, Iloveplotbunnies, cureless, mwalter1, Jadestar1981, yaba, Habeous Corpus, HOUSEMDFanForever and Chiisana Minako for reviewing part two.

Happy New Year!

x tromana

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**Part Three**

Her palms are sweaty and instinctively, she rubs them against her pant legs. When she's done as much as she can with that, she automatically starts to stretch and flex her fingers; anything to keep her mind busy and her eyes off the analog clock ticking incessantly in front of her. Lisbon was more than aware of the fight or flight instinct and right now, she was fighting against her urge to run away as fast as she could. If it wasn't for Jane, sitting beside her with a benign smile, she was certain that she would have left this depressing waiting room ages ago.

Whoever thought that it's a good idea to decorate somewhere with posters dictating how one in four people suffered from mental illnesses and how little is known about the causes of migraines deserved to be shot too.

"Stop looking at the clock, it's not going to make time go any faster."

"I'm not…"

She stops abruptly and glances quickly upwards at said clock before scowling at Jane. Under normal circumstances, she would have engaged him in banter and she knew that he was trying to distract her from the impending appointment, but frankly, she doesn't want that. What Lisbon wants is to leave as soon as feasibly possible, however nice the reassuring hand on the small of her back and the attempt at emotional support is. But as per usual, her head is killing her and noise in any way, shape or form is an irritant.

"Teresa Lisbon?"

Lisbon freezes, like a deer caught in the headlights. She only realizes that she's not caught in some kind of horrific dream when Jane's hand migrates from her back to her hand and he gives it an affectionate squeeze. When she had first booked her appointment with a neurologist, Jane had weaseled the date out of her within seconds. And when he had promptly announced that he would accompany her, she had seethed and raged at him. Now, however, it's a relief having him by her side. At least he's there to force her to go through this charade rather than back out and hide away from her problems, as it would be so easy to do so. Pretend that the problems will just go away on their own, because it's not that bad really and seriously? Who goes to the hospital over painkillers you can buy in a pharmacy anyway?

Eventually, with a gentle nudge forwards, she finds herself on her feet and stumbling towards the specialist who has come out to greet her. The woman holds out a hand and she nervously, Lisbon shakes it.

"Is this your hus…"

"No, he's just a work colleague," she interrupts sharply.

Jane looks a little forlorn at the fact that she didn't even deign him worthwhile enough to refer to as a friend. But still, when the woman asks if she wants him to join her in the assessment room and Lisbon offers a short, sharp nod of agreement, he brightens considerably. There's several reasons for this; attention-seeking, simply wanting to ensure that the stubborn little woman shaking like a leaf beside him went through with this. And most importantly, ensuring that he knew exactly what was going on because he physically couldn't cope with being left on the outside.

"How long have you been suffering with the headaches?"

A man with glasses and eyes that appear slightly too close together practically demands an answer as soon as the woman left them both with him. Lisbon just blinks owlishly at him, allowing Jane to answer that it has been ten months, give or take. The doctor just glares at the blond, making Lisbon answer his questions tentatively herself. It's not that he doesn't trust this man, who is obviously close, somehow, to his patient, to answer honestly but questions regarding neurology are best answered by the patient herself. However much this 'Jane' person may care for the brunette woman, he cannot say exactly whereabouts her head hurts or the intensity that she suffers from and how frequently. Even heightened observational skills cannot answer questions like those.

When he has finally finished bombarding her with his menagerie of questions, he starts with the tests. They seem to have nothing to do with headaches and migraines, but who was Lisbon to judge what he needs to do to answer the questions regarding her personal health? She'd assumed that it would involve stuff like random scans of her brain and would all cost her a fortune. However, this medic seemed more interested in her vision, balance, joint reflexes and the like. Lisbon scowled at Jane as the consultant attempted not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. When the doctor finally seems to calm down, Lisbon realizes just how nervous she is again and twists her hands over in her lap.

"I'm going to pass the information over to the nurse who brought you in, Amanda Thompson," the doctor announces, "she'll go through the results with you."

"Why can't you?" Lisbon asks quickly.

"I have other patients to see," he replies derisively, as if it is blindingly obvious. "She's more than qualified to deal with that."

The waiting room is one place that Lisbon didn't want to return to, but it seems that she doesn't have much choice. Jane's hand migrates back to her back, kneading away at the tension, desperately trying to help her relax. If anything, the headache specialist has managed to leave her more agitated and Jane doesn't like that one bit. It's one thing if he's annoying the hell out of her, it's almost to be expected, but it's another entirely if someone else is winding her up. That kind of thing simply isn't allowed. All she wants to know is what the hell is wrong with her and why the hell she can't stop taking the painkillers. Being passed from person to person with a blithe smile is doing nothing to help her relax.

The woman, Amanda, is apologetic when she returns to invite Lisbon into her office half an hour later. When she shoots him a panicked look, Jane immediately takes note to follow. The nurse's room is a lot more welcoming and cozy than the room that they'd been taken to previously.

"We believe that the abuse of painkillers is what is exacerbating the headache," Amanda states simply, knowing that there is no point in overcomplicating the truth.

"What? But they're meant to help…"

"I know, but that's what happens when people become overeliant on medication," she sighs. "Over the counter painkillers are more dangerous than the pharmaceutical companies want us to believe."

As the nurse continues to explain the vicious circle involved with medication overuse headaches, Lisbon slowly found herself nodding and understanding. When she had first told Jane she thought she had a problem of some variety, she'd been only telling half-truths. She'd assumed the headache was the problem and she was simply taking medication to deal with it and she'd told him that it was a problem because she wanted to appease him. Knowing that she has gotten caught in a vicious circle and that they had both been right, in a way, doesn't make things much easier.

"You'll have to undergo a washout," she continues. "It's not fool-proof, but…"

"What if it doesn't work?"

"We'll come to that hurdle if we need to."

"Fine, what do I have to do?"

"Take no painkillers, for eight weeks," she answered. "That's how long it takes to remove the analgesics from your system."

"That's fine, I can do that."

She ignores Jane's skeptical eyebrow, that has immediately shot up in surprise and amusement.

"The first ten days or so can be particularly unpleasant. We can offer you support, say a hospital bed for that period…"

"Oh no, oh no. I need to be at work."

"Lisbon, I'm sure…"

"Shut up, Jane."

Amanda watches the pair with interest before she explains the rest of the treatment plan to Lisbon, including secondary medications in order to lessen the severity of the headache and migraines, relaxation techniques and other herbal treatments which could help. As with all her patients, she sincerely hopes that this will work. Because if the washout doesn't, things begin to get a hell of a lot more complicated. At least the woman seemed optimistic when she left. If nothing else, she seemed satisfied to have finally received answers for her erratic behavior over the past ten months or so.

**TBC…**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Firstly, I'm so sorry for the delay in updating this. I kind of got distracted by other fics, unintentionally of course. I don't know when the next update is going to be, but I *really* want to finish Catch before the end of the month as it is for the Jello Forever January Challenge. I should really try and work on not having so many multiparters on the go at the same time... Hm.

Secondly: thanks to: Habeous Corpus, Chiisana Minako, Famous4it, Iloveplotbunnies, Viktorija, Frogster, WingfieldLegend, Odakota Rose, yaba, HOUSEMDFanForever, NellietheMarvelous, mtm, Divinia Serit, Dogeatdog, Jadestar1981 and Penelope Louise for reviewing part three. I've been completely overwhelmed with the support for this, especially given the difficult subject matter, so to speak.

x tromana

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**Part Four**

Just three days into the washout and Lisbon is seriously regretting not taking up the offer of a hospital bed.

She'd be fine if she could take a painkiller or two, just to numb the throbbing pain as it would allow her to operate like a human being, but that would obviously defy the whole objective. It doesn't help that every sound reverberating around the CBI headquarters seems to have been magnified tenfold or that she kind of, accidentally, broke her blinds when trying to shut the light out either. With a sigh, she picks up yet another manila folder emblazoned with the CBI logo. The words started merging together an hour ago and she's only been here for two, but still, Lisbon has plenty of work to be doing. And she's not going to let a headache beat her, even without the medication.

When Rigsby arrives, three hours late because of a dentist's appointment, she winces as she hears his cheerful whistling fill the building. Having delivered coffees to the bullpen, along with a tea which has probably been prepared incorrectly for Jane, he opens the door to her office and smiles brightly at her. When he goes to place Lisbon's normal preference, a black coffee with one sugar, on her desk, Jane appears virtually out of nowhere, snatching the beverage away. He stomps towards the kitchenette, disposes of it swiftly before returning to give a rather bemused Rigsby a steely glare.

"What was that for?"

"She can't have caffeine!"

"I didn't know!"

"Well you should have asked!"

"I _am _still here you know," Lisbon interjects as the two men attempt to size up to one another. "And it is my health you're discussing."

"Sorry, Boss," Rigsby replies almost instantaneously and she knows he means it. "I didn't mean…"

"I know you don't, Rigsby," she answers soothingly.

Jane simply scowls in response; as far as he's concerned, Rigsby should have known better. Next, he'll be offering her some tablets to get through the day as she seems to be suffering particularly today. Lisbon hasn't been that impressed, but he doesn't regret napping on her couch for a second. After all, Jane feels somehow obliged to keep an eye on her, like she has his back whenever he pulls a stunt. Though it is blindingly obvious that she doesn't see his attention as caring, more irritating, it doesn't matter. Jane knows that what he's doing is for the best and that's what counts.

Feeling somewhat disappointed with himself, though not entirely sure why because he hadn't actually been updated on Lisbon's new dietary requirements, Rigsby shuffles back into the bullpen. Van Pelt flashes a gentle smile in his direction; she knows just how scared he was going to the dentist alone and had wished that she could go along with him. But even if they'd announced their relationship status to the world, she wouldn't have been allowed to do so anyway. No boss in their right mind would give somebody time off just to accompany their boyfriend to something like that, even if said boss was feeling one hundred percent well and compassionate. They all know that she's been to the hospital recently and though she wouldn't elaborate too far, except to make it clear that she isn't suffering from something life-threatening, they know her recovery from whatever is wrong with her is going to take some time.

It's a few hours later and the three members of the Serious Crimes Unit who occupy the bullpen are slowly running out of work and growing bored. Cho has already pulled out the murder mystery he's in the middle of reading, smirking at all the inaccuracies that the writer has thrown in to 'spice up' the action and Rigsby is finishing up his last report while a doughnut stares back at him teasingly. Only Van Pelt remains focused on her task in hand, but being the lowest ranked member of the team, she finds it easy to find work to do; anything that will make her appear more driven and will impress those above her is worthy of her attention.

"No, I don't want you to take me home, Jane!"

All three jolted from their own little worlds as the sound of Lisbon's voice cuts through the air. Obviously, Jane was beginning to bother the brunette again and she has had enough. Van Pelt, particularly, thinks that it is sweet that the blond is finally considering somebody other than himself, but really, he does need to learn when to back off. Cho carefully closes the paperback and slips it back into the draw that he has designated for books and glances over at Rigsby. Rigsby stares back in terror, as if he is trying to tell the Asian that it is his 'turn' to get involved with whatever argument has sparked between the pair.

"But you're ill, I'm sure the interim boss won't care that you take one afternoon off."

"I'm fine."

"Yes, you're fine," he echoes skeptically. "Which is absolutely the reason you fell asleep on that report, so don't say you were just resting your eyes, Lisbon."

"Yes, fine, I was sleeping," she hisses as Cho swiftly picks up some paperwork to hide behind, even though he completed said paperwork an hour ago. "But that does _not_ mean I need to go home."

Cho silently agrees with Jane. Lisbon does look paler than usual, her eyes sullen, more withdrawn. And that is saying something considering just how unwell she has been looking for some time now. He knows that the particularly stubborn martyr inside Lisbon is refusing to allow her to leave her post, but if anyone can talk her into leaving, it's Jane. He would go over there and talk to them, but he doesn't want to overcrowd her, have her freak out as she is liable to when ill. Instead, he just observes them with interest, as do the younger two agents. When Lisbon's shoulders sag in defeat and she gives Jane a small nod, he feels vindicated.

Though she's agreed to this, Lisbon can't help but scowl at Jane, the manipulative bastard that he is. It's not her fault that she gave in so easily; her head is all over the place and those damn flashing lights are particularly distracting. Stupid headaches. Stupid migraines too, for that matter. It doesn't help that the nurse had told her to cut out every woman's favorite comfort food, chocolate, too. In situations like this, one of the first things she'd usually head for is a bar of the delicious candy, but now she can't, because she needs to try and work out what triggers the migraines. And if anyone even suggests stress… She shook her head as Jane smiles at her, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

Tentatively, she unlocks the door to her home and allows Jane to follow her inside. He remains by her side, but Lisbon can tell that he's looking around with interest, absorbing all the differences from when he was last here. She's unpacked a couple more boxes since then, but that's about it. With a job as busy as hers, free time is a premium and she certainly isn't going to spend unnecessary time making a house homely when she can be catching up on sleep or something. After a couple of minutes, Jane suddenly seems to remember why they're there and sends her upstairs, to bed and promises to bring her up a cup of decaffeinated tea.

As if tea is a cure-all for everything.

Still, she complies, something which he is somewhat surprised about. He hates seeing his Lisbon so devoid of spirit, but she's ill so it's understandable. As he familiarizes himself with her kitchen, he's pleased that he took the rest of the day off too. Sure, he'll go back to work if a new case crops up, but if there's nothing he needs to do, he'd rather be here, with Lisbon. Taking care of her as a good friend should. Quietly, with two cups of tea in hand, he pads upstairs, taking care not to spill either. When he pushes open the door, a small smile creeps across his face.

She's already fallen asleep.

**TBC…**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I'm sorry for completely neglecting this fic. Challenge plus this being a very hard one for me to write meant I kind of ignored it. Anyway, this is also a short chapter so I apologise for that too.

Thank you to: yaba, Divinia Serit, Iloveplotbunnies, mtm, Penelope Louise, Viktorija, Chiisana Minako, Famous4it, Jadestar1981, HOUSEMDFanForever, Odakota Rose, eblonde and Advier for reviewing part four.

For twin - I said I'd get it done for you so you had something to read after class!

x tromana

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**Part Five**

She can hear the sounds of crockery clattering, water boiling and a certain someone tripping over her sneakers which she'd carelessly left in the middle of her kitchen floor.

In fact, it was him tripping over said shoes and the string of expletives that followed that had woken her up.

Sitting up, Lisbon notices a cup of now-cold tea to her left and pushes off the blanket that had been artfully draped across her torso. She'd like to stay laying here, cocooned in her various sheets, but really, she needs to go and investigate, before he does too much damage so instead, she finds herself wrapping her dressing gown tightly around her lithe form and padding downstairs.

Though she knows he's somewhat competent in the kitchen, it's entirely different seeing him in situ rather than hearing about it second hand. She would have been able to control her emotions, but it's the apron that gets to her most and she finds herself having to give in to the laughter. Jane spins around, wooden spoon in hand and shakes it at her in disgust. His soup isn't going to be ready for another ten minutes or so and he'd been hoping to wake her up with the nourishing meal rather than the noise he'd been making.

"Smells good," she states as she takes a seat at the dining table. "What is it?"

"Soup."

"I can see that."

"Chicken noodle," he expands while scrutinizing her disheveled appearance. She still looks pale and he has to fight the urge to place the back of his hand against her forehead to measure her temperature. "That okay?"

She shrugs noncommittally. It's ten p.m. and she isn't really in the mood for eating, but she doesn't appear to have any say in the matter. The insomniac wielding kitchen utensils at her is practically clucking like a mother hen around her, so she doesn't dare say anything to contradict him just yet. Lisbon figures that it's best just to be a good patient, do as she's told and then maybe, he might just give her 'permission' to go to work tomorrow. They eat quietly and once they have finished, Jane clears away the dishes before placing a blister pack of tablets in front of her. Lisbon picks them up nervously, fingering the silver foil and glancing at him, somewhat disconcerted.

"It's the migraine prophylaxis," Jane explains quickly. "We picked them up yesterday, remember?"

She nods quickly. Only problem is, she also remembers leaving them at work.

"You went through my desk?"

"Yes."

Lisbon sighs. She wants to be angry with him, really she does, but she just doesn't have the energy. Instead, she peers at the dosage and pops out one of the pink amitriptyline pills, staring at it bitterly. Though the she'd never had a problem taking the painkillers, because she thought they had been helping, there was something different about prescribed drugs. She's always thought of them as being something to be cautious of, more dangerous. Who knows what kind of damage those foreign chemicals can do to your body?

"Hmm… one of the common side-effects is headaches. Doesn't that defeat the objective?"

Jane glances up from the piece of paper that he had fished from out of the box and flashes her a quick smile. The list of common side effects is extensive and he'd been finding it quite interesting.

"Shut up, Jane."

Dispelling her thoughts and reminding herself that the medication has been designed to reduce the frequency of the dratted migraines, she grudgingly swallows it with a sip of water. She knows it's going to take some time to have any effect and that the dosage will slowly increase over time, but it's still something she wishes she didn't have to do.

"Do you have any idea what triggered the migraine?" he asks lightly as she places the glass of water back down. "Have you been keeping your migraine diary?"

Lisbon rolls her eyes in annoyance and crosses her arms in frustration. He may mean well, but she's still feeling a little peaky, even if the nausea has mercifully passed and the aura symptoms have ceased bothering her for now. Besides, she's fairly certain she knows what started it off and knows that he's not going to be best impressed.

"You skipped lunch, didn't you?"

With a sigh, she nods and Jane almost growls in frustration. For someone with so much time for other people and their needs, it annoys him that she woefully neglects her own so much.

"You know what the nurse said about skipping meals," he sighs and takes hold of her hand. "If you don't look after yourself…"

"Jane…"

"It's getting late, you should go back to bed."

"What am I? Twelve?" she finally snaps. "I don't need you looking after me."

"Well the evidence points to the contrary."

"I am _fine_."

She enunciates each and every word as clearly as possible. It's just a headache. You've never heard of anyone dying of a headache, they're just annoying. Rather like the consultant who is throwing dagger looks back in her direction. Eventually she just stands up, walks over to her front door and opens it wide open.

"I think you should leave now."

With a sigh, Jane just nods, picks up his jacket and leaves without another word. He could tell that the brunette's patience had been wearing thin and considering how little she usually had, he wasn't exactly surprised that she had snapped. Though he's saddened that she did resort to throwing him out of her home, he stands by what he said. Somebody needs to open her eyes and then hopefully, she might start actually looking after herself again. Then she may have a chance at recovering from the chronic headaches.

For a good five minutes, Lisbon leans up against her front door, trying to bring her breathing back under control. Not knowing what to do with herself following the outburst, she eventually wanders back upstairs, deciding that the washing up can wait until morning. She eventually flops on her bed once more, her body shaking with frustration. The argument was stupid, pathetic but she just couldn't stop herself from retaliating. He was just trying to be kind by bringing her home, making sure she was well fed and resting but she just had to throw it back in his face. Eventually, she just buries her head in her pillow, willing her mind to slow down for long enough to be able to fall asleep.

**TBC…**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **So this is the penultimate chapter and the next one is even shorter, I think. Basically, I didn't want this dragging on much longer. There's only so much that's 'interesting' about the recovery from daily chronic headache and frankly, this is where I lose touch with the story. The wash out didn't work for me. *sigh*

Anyway, thanks to: Chiisana Minako, Iloveplotbunnies, Divinia Serit, Ebony10, yaba, hoshinekoyasha, Famous4it, Viktorija, Jadestar1981, HOUSEMDFanForever, eblonde, Katharen Silver, Adiver and mtm for reviewing part five. Especially so to Ebony10 for catching up and reviewing every chapter. Thank you!

The beginning of this chapter was inspired by "They Live In You" from the Lion King musical. Don't know why I feel the need to mention it. Heh.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Six**

Her parents both had addictive personalities.

Lisbon knew about her Dad's problems fairly early on. It wasn't exactly difficult to find out about. The ever increasing presence of more beer cans and bottles for spirits in the garbage was sign enough. His surly temperament, which always inevitably turned to violence. It still makes her shudder when she remembers the hospital trips, the broken bones. Hiding bruises and scars from teachers who were far to nosy for their own good.

It had taken her longer to find out about her mother's problems, mainly because following her death, her father had kept that from her too. Their debts had skyrocketed thanks to her gambling away the family's life savings. Parents were supposed to leave their kids with homes, good memories, heading in the right direction for life. Not almost in financial ruin before they are legally classified as adults. Lisbon still doesn't quite know how she managed to avoid bankruptcy, but she's more than a little relieved to say the least.

But that's beside the point and she does love her parents, regardless.

The point is that she always thought she'd be able to pick up on the warning signs of any kind of addiction or obsession. And here she is, in the middle of a wash out, trying to break out of the habit of taking painkillers.

Shaking her head, she stares at her reflection again. She may be her parent's daughter, but she isn't either of them. She knows she can beat this where they failed dismally. She needs to for her health, her mental well-being. For her career, which she carved out of absolutely nothing. At least she has a support network, which she appreciates dearly, though she hasn't exactly been able to show it. And she's not absolutely certain, but Lisbon thinks that today, she might be feeling the best she has for months.

A knock at the door jolts her out of her reverie. Quickly, she pulls on her favorite cardigan and rushes downstairs before her visitor attempts to knock down the door with his fist. She knows who it's going to be already and has told them multiple times that visiting today is absolutely ridiculous, but Jane doesn't care about ridicule. Some might even say that he's the very definition of it. Lisbon knows that she certainly would, amongst other things. When she finally opens the door, he's standing there, holding a homemade cake as if it is some kind of peace offering. Over the past four weeks, he's never known what kind of mood she'll be in and has given up predicting until she is better. He continually refuses to accept any kind of apology for mistreatment and arguments from her though. It's not as if she can control her moods right now and Jane prefers it being him receiving the brunt of her anger rather than some innocent bystander. After all, an angry Lisbon isn't exactly a pretty sight.

"A sponge?" she asks sounding somewhat hopeful as she eyes the cake box.

"Made it last night," he announces proudly, walking through the door as she held it open for him. "Don't worry, I checked the ingredients. It doesn't have any of your known triggers in it."

Oh how she misses chocolate. And caffeine. And bizarrely, peanuts are another problematic foodstuff, but she doesn't miss them quite as much as the other two. She's adjusting, though, mainly because she doesn't have much of a choice. Lisbon has found out that cake makes an ideal replacement comfort food for chocolate, though. Jane also regularly supplies her with a whole menagerie of decaffeinated teas and has quickly developed a fondness for strawberry roobois. It isn't quite coffee, but it's better than nothing. Part of her has a sneaking suspicion that he's more proud of her for developing some 'taste' when it comes to beverages than he is for her tackling her over-the-counter drug problem.

"What time is she calling?"

Lisbon glances at her watch as Jane pours boiling water from her kettle. Seconds later, a delicious orangey aroma fills her kitchen and she almost forgets that he asked her a question at all.

"In half an hour."

"Nervous?"

"No, why would I be?"

Jane shrugs and hands her one of the steaming mugs. It's a new tea, one that neither of them have tried before and he hopes it compliments the cake well. They eat and drink in a companionable silence, neither noticing as time slips by. When Lisbon's landline telephone shrilly cuts through the peace, it catches them both off guard. Though she had told Jane that the upcoming telephone appointment wasn't bothering her, she is visibly shaking as she answers the call and actually appreciative of his presence.

Thankfully, the call is short and sweet and the headache nurse, Amanda, soon allows her to get on with the rest of her day. Jane makes a dismal attempt at pretending not to listen in by busying himself with organizing refills. It didn't bother her much as she knows that the very reason he is here at all is to do just that. Lisbon finds his concern overwhelmingly sweet, especially as he seems to have made every effort to rein in his crazy antics at work. Anyway, even if he hadn't turned up, she would have told him anyway. Talking about her health issues, though a somewhat foreign concept to her, has really helped her to remain focused on her target.

"You didn't tell me that you've had a couple of headache-free days," he remarks lightly while placing yet another different tea in front of her.

"Didn't I?"

She blinks in response and enjoys the scent of the tea. It smells far more decadent than the orangey one, almost like caramel and she's anticipating it already.

"That's great."

"I know."

She can't help but beam in response. Finally, she feels like she's getting somewhere. Like there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Like she is actually going to get better.

"Jane?"

"Yes, Lisbon?"

"Thank you."

**TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **So, last chapter. Thank goodness. This fic has been so difficult for me at times - it'd make my headache worse, stuff like that. So don't ask me why I forced myself to write this. But thank you to everyone for your support, I never thought people would even want to read this as it is rather medical.

Thank you to: Divinia Serit, Chiisana Minako, Iloveplotbunnies, yaba, lisbon69, Famous4it, Ebony10, shopping-luva91, MK, mtm, Jadestar1981 and HOUSEMDFanForever for reviewing part six. And to _anyone_ who has taken the time to read this, I appreciate it.

And hugs for shopping-luva91. You know why. :-)

x tromana

* * *

**Part Seven**

Lisbon has a spring in her step today.

The rest of the team has noticed the subtle shift in her behavior. They know that they're not going to be snapped at for the most ridiculous of things now and frankly, it's a relief. They've been walking on eggshells for over a year now, especially so for the past two months because of this. But that's not as important as finally knowing that their boss is actually feeling a hell of a lot better. Despite the fact they are her subordinates, they care for her surprisingly deeply. After all, she's proven time and time again just how much she cares for them, so it's only fair that they repay the compliment.

When she attended her final appointment with the headache nurse yesterday, Jane went along with her. He'd made a promise to stick beside her throughout her recovery and hadn't intended to break it, even at the last hurdle. Besides, it was nice to see her genuinely smile and thank the nurse profusely for helping her out. And he had wanted to show his gratitude too; Amanda had given him his Lisbon back. The healthy, happier Lisbon rather than the quiet, withdrawn one with sullen eyes and a distinct lack of spark.

Throughout her washout, Jane had been terribly concerned. Whenever he had had an opportunity, he'd researched into daily chronic headaches online. Finding other cases where people still suffered from them five years, ten years, even longer than that, hadn't done much to quell his fears. But now, he doesn't have to worry anymore. Lisbon is one of the lucky ones, all cured, more knowledgeable about her migraine triggers and aware of the dangers of falling into the vicious cycle of taking analgesics daily. And that is something he's able to keep an eye on too. He knows the warning signs now and he might as well use his heightened skills of observation for some good.

If course, no one is happier about her recovery than Lisbon herself. She appreciates every single morning that she wakes up headache free and knows what a blessing that something as simple as that can be. Work no longer feels virtually impossible and she's actually starting to enjoy herself again, in the understated way that she does. Another thing she's learned throughout this is that however vocally she may complain about a certain blond consultant, she really does appreciate him. And it's shown that despite the losses he's endured in the past, despite his fruitless quest for revenge, he can still care for those around him. Maybe, just maybe, there's hope for him yet.

After all, she's grown used to having Jane as such an integral part of her life. Though she'd be reluctant to admit it, Lisbon enjoys him company and his friendship. Besides, she's grown to rely on him and he was the one who didn't give up on her when she was at her bleakest. In fact, he pushed her until the problem was solved and held her hand, figuratively speaking, throughout it. Even before he had actively shown her this level of support, she hadn't been willing to give up on him as he is one of her team and she feels obliged to protect him like she does any of the others. But now, she feels almost validated, like she needs to ensure she drags Jane back in the right direction. Like when they finally catch Red John, that he is more likely to hand him over to her, to deal with legally rather than subject him to Jane's sense of morality.

But she is slightly concerned though. Part of her can't help but wonder if his support was a one time deal and now that she's better, he'll withdraw from her again. Maybe it was even a case of him needing her feeling one hundred percent so that it makes it easier for her to focus on apprehending Red John? Could Jane really but that selfish and egotistical? How often does he do something when there are no obvious benefits for himself? Is she just being paranoid now?

She approaches his couch somewhat tentatively, shifting the box she is carrying from arm to arm. He doesn't even bother to pretend that he had been sleeping ad instead, smiles broadly up at her. After he's moved his legs to make room for her, she perches on the arm and they spend a few minutes just staring at each other, both waiting for the other to start. Lisbon eventually shakes her head, coming to her senses before handing him the box.

"Um, it's to say thank you."

Lisbon's apology is rushed and she's not certain, but she thinks she has managed to avoid blushing. Jane smiles in response; this is somewhat unexpected as he's never thought that Lisbon owes him anything particularly.

"You shouldn't have," he replies and means it.

"But…"

"Shh…"

Jane smiles slyly when he realizes that she has actually listened to him for a change. She's not exactly one for taking orders, which means it's probably a good thing that she's the boss. Carefully juggling the mystery box, he maneuvers himself to a sitting position before opening it.

It's tea, which isn't exactly surprising, but there's flavors and combinations that even he hasn't heard of. Immediately, he concludes that not only must she have imported it from somewhere, but it must have cost her a fortune.

"I do hope you've remembered to order some decaffeinated varieties, woman,"

"Why?" she queries, feeling a little idiotic but pleased with his reaction, nevertheless.

"Because I need someone to try them with."

"Oh."

Lisbon smiles as what he actually means by that dawns on her. She'd just bought it as a simple thank you gift from one friend to another, but she realizes now that she should have known that he'd have other plans. Maybe she shouldn't have underestimated him and maybe he appreciates her company too, despite all the crap she's thrown at him because of the headaches. With a smile, he leads her through to the kitchenette, eager to try one of the selection out. Both are grateful now. If one good thing came out of the debacle, it's their strengthened friendship.

end


End file.
